


First Meetings

by QuietlyImplode



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Hurt Natasha Romanov, Or relationships if you squint, Pre-Relationship, Protective Clint Barton, Protective Laura Barton, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:55:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27774154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuietlyImplode/pseuds/QuietlyImplode
Summary: Natasha and Laura have a relationship unbeknownst to Clint, and an incident makes Laura call Clint to come help her with Natasha. It’s Clint and Laura’s first meeting.— from a tumblr prompt that refused to play ball.
Relationships: Clint Barton & Laura Barton, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton/Laura Barton/Natasha Romanov, Laura Barton & Natasha Romanov
Comments: 10
Kudos: 49





	First Meetings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RedBirdBella](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedBirdBella/gifts).



> This did not come out as I thought it would, and I wish it came out better. Heads up it’s disjointed and because it’s longer than I usually do it is probably full of plot holes. It may be something I fix and continue at a later date cause it’s a concept that is super interesting. Or delete. 
> 
> @redbirdbella prompted a Clint/Nat/Laura fic in which Clint comes back from a mission to find Natasha who’s has been having trouble sleeping alone happily wrapped up with the young nurse who shes good friends with. The nurse is the only medical person she will let treat her and they really get along and have been really hanging out but Clint wasn't sure it was romantic between them. He expects to feel jealous cause he loves Natasha but he just thinks they're beautiful then he realises he likes them both. Then Natasha wakes up. 
> 
> This is not completely that, so I apologise 100%. In summary it’s: Natasha and Laura have a relationship unbeknownst to Clint, and an incident makes Laura call Clint to come help her with Natasha. It’s Clint and Laura’s first meeting.

“Hello?”

“Hello?” A woman’s soft voice comes through the telephone. Clint holds his phone away from his face and double checks the number. 

The woman has Natasha’s number, her phone. 

“Who is this?” He asks suspiciously. His heart is thumping. This falls into the ‘not good’ category and the worry on the woman’s voice is making Clint stress into the ‘very bad’ category. 

“My name is Laura,” the woman says, “I have Natasha’s phone. You’re her emergency contact, I think? You’re under ICE.”

“ICE?” Clint questions, confused. He’s started to move, whatever this is, whatever this woman is calling for it’s not good. At all. He’s about five hours from an airport and in an undisclosed location where he’s potentially nowhere near Natasha needs him to be.

“In case of emergency, I pushed her to do it after the last time…” the woman, Laura, stops short. 

“Last time!?” Clint has to stop. He has no idea what’s going on, who this woman is and what this rollercoaster ride of a conversation is. 

The woman keeps dropping bombshells on him, and whilst he knows that Natasha has so many secrets he assumed it was more safe houses and gun stashes than people. 

“Um.. Anyway. Do you know her house in Nubian Square, near Malcolm X Park? You know, the one with the red roof?”

“Boston? Nat’s in Boston?” 

“Yeah. I’m here with her. It’s.. Can you get here?”  
The question hangs in the air, and the things that Laura isn’t saying feels more dangerous than the things she is.

“As soon as I can,” he promises. “Is she ok?”  
He’s out the door and in the car. He misses the first part of the answer as the phone connects. 

“..ok. I’ve got her stable, but she’s in and out and she’s called out for you a couple of times..”

Clint has to rest his head on the steering wheel, his heart pulling in grief. What the hell did she get herself into. “She’ll be ok-ish, but I think you being here will help.” 

Clint calculates how long to get there, driving is easier than flying, no TSA and can pretty much leg it there but slower. Flying is quicker but more trouble. He decides on driving. Maybe he can make up the hour difference in speed. 

“Can you stay on the line?” He asks her, hoping she’ll be able to, panic is making him manic, but also forgetful. He’s left his fucking phone charger on the table. 

“Yeah. It’s fine. I’m sitting next to her now. How far away are you?” He can imagine them now, Natasha asleep and this woman sitting next to her. 

He wonders in their relationship, what it is about her that’s made Natasha drop her guard and go to her for help. 

He imagines Natasha like a lone wolf, ready to lick her wounds in private. She hates any medical but knows that pragmatically it’s a necessity. Natasha is perhaps the biggest mystery of his life, and he loves her. 

“About 9 hours, I think. Less if I can..” he stops short. “Less if I can speed.”

Laura laughs, and it sounds like bells, he can’t help but smile as well. “Don’t speed,” she admonishes, “You’re Clint, I’m assuming?”

“Yeah,” says Clint, “she’s told you about me?” He wants to know everything, wants to know who the hell this woman is and how Natasha came to trust her. How is she; someone they’ve never talked about, but obviously such a big part of her life?

“Of course. She likes to keep things to the chest, but she loves your spaghetti and meatballs recipe; and the Christmas present last year? That was me.” 

Laura laughs again at Clint’s confusion, and Clint feels oddly reassured that she has Natasha’s back. That Natasha’s cooked for her before, they’ve been shopping together (he loves that present she talks of, it’s in his favourite safe house in London sitting on his desk). 

“That’s funny, she’s never spoken of you.” He tries.

Laura doesn’t answer but he can hear her moving. “I’m not surprised, she likes to keep things close to the chest.” Which, gives him nothing except that she’s as good as he is at not talking. He finally turns onto the highway and can push his car a little faster. 

“What do you do when you’re not taking care of Natasha?” He asks, hoping she’ll disclose something, anything he can fact check.

He can imagine and almost hear the amusement on her voice as she answers.

“I’m a nurse, Clint. Sometimes she visits.” Laura says it so flippantly that he almost doesn’t draw the connections. 

Like when they had a mission in Rhode Island, Natasha had taken a couple of days after before coming back in; or when she’d been tortured in Bahrain, she’d licked her wounds elsewhere - Clint now supposes that it’d been here. 

There’s no way she could have stitched the whipping wounds that had been on the backside of her thighs as well as they had been done by herself. 

Little mysteries had suddenly resolved. Clint wonders what other things will be revealed as he talks. He wants some more information though. 

“Hey, can I call you back?” He asks, “can you keep the line open?” 

“Want to check me out?” She surmises.

“Yeah.” He answers, truthfully.

“I’ll be here, Clint Barton.” She drops, and hangs up.  
.

2/

“Maria? You there?” 

“Clint? Do you know what time it is?” He does. He’s not sorry. He needs her expertise.

“Yeah sorry, can you help me with something?” he doesn’t wait for an answer before launching into what he needs, “Natasha got herself into some trouble and now she’s holed up in her safe house with a nurse called Laura. Can you run a background check?”

Maria yawns.

“Sure, it’s already been done a while ago. I’ll send you the drop box link.” She hangs up before Clint can even question what that even means. 

What it does mean is that Laura is:  
\- Vetted (possibly by Natasha)  
\- Known to the organization (Maria already knew who she was and Clint didn’t even have to give any other info)  
\- Someone that others know about (but he doesn’t) 

He feels slightly hurt by the last implication, to not be trusted enough to be let in. Jealous might be a better word for it. That Natasha trusts someone over him. That someone commands more of her attention that he does. 

It’s dumb, he knows. 

Clint’s phone pings with an email from Maria and he sets it to read aloud. 

He learns that Laura is an American nurse, served in the army and is now stateside, no significant other, he learns her age and a skeleton view of her history. 

Nothing strange, or even remotely worrying, in fact; she sounds like someone that he would’ve dated. She sounds his type, if he had one. 

He double checks the gps - 5 hours to go. Calling Natasha’s phone, it rings twice before Laura picks up.

“Hey,” she answers breathlessly. “Can I call you back?” 

He can hear the shower running and crying that sounds suspiciously like Natasha. 

“You ok?” He asks.

“No. But we will be.” He imagines her placing the phone between her shoulder and her ear, and hears her telling Natasha to take some deep breaths. 

“Try getting her to hold onto some ice blocks,” he suggests, “it helps to ground her.” 

“Thanks,” Comes the reply. And the phone shuts off.  
.

It’s another hour and a half before his phone rings again. He’s already filled the car up with gas and got snacks and coffee to fuel him. 

He answers on the first ring. He’s sweating with stress. He knows how volatile Natasha can be when she’s panicked; he hopes that’s not what this is.

“You ok?” He answers.

“I’m ok.” Comes Natasha’s voice. 

He smiles and his heart that’s been rabbiting since he called Laura, dulls. He closes his eyes for a second and sighs.

“It’s really good to hear your voice,” he says softly.

“Yours too.” Comes the response.

“What happened?” He questions, not sure if she’s ready to talk about it, or if he’s ready to hear about it, considering he’s still around 3 and a half hours away and can do jack shit from here. 

“Mission. Got beat up. Got gassed out and extracted. Ended up here…” there’s a pause and Clint doesn’t talk, knowing Natasha hates silences. 

“I’m ok, you don’t have to come. Laura’s been helping.” He still doesn’t speak, waiting for her to elaborate.

“I haven’t been sleeping since I got extracted… haven’t, umm, actually slept at all. It’s been..” she lets the implication hang. “Anyway. Laura’s a nurse. She’s helped before and I needed someone redo my stitches.” 

“You don’t need to explain, Nat.” He says gently. 

“I should have told you.” She stops. He can feel her take a deep breath and the labored breath out. So ribs are done in then, Clint supposes. 

He ponders over the information she’s divulged. 

“Fury said you were on a mission?” She asks, trying to continue the conversation.

She can feel his hurt.

He doesn’t want her to feel bad. They’re not anything but partners in the work sense. 

They’re not lovers, they’re friends of course and as much as he’d love to be more, he’s only ever wanted to make her feel safe and supported in all things and everything. 

This relationship, or whatever it is between her and Laura all but takes that future out. 

He’s got 3 hours to grieve for it and then, he tells himself, he’s moving on. 

“Snatch and grab. It was fine. Laura saved me from paperwork. Do you mind me coming?” He doesn’t want to impose, feels a bit like an intruder. 

It’s lessened now, the worry and panic that she’s not okay. He can turn around now and still leave them to it, whatever it is. 

“No, I want you here, but you don’t have to come.” Natasha pauses. He hears Laura in the background. “Laura’s going to make you some spaghetti to eat.” 

He smiles into the phone. She’s trying. Maybe to make up for the omission that is Laura.

“I’ll call you when I’m half an hour away then.”

“Ok. You ok?” She questions.

“Yeah. Talk soon Nat.” And he hangs up the phone.  
.  
He works through his emotions and counsels himself for the next two hours, plays melancholy music and wallows. 

Goes over past conversations and missions where they’ve shared a bed. Plays back his memory of the sneaky touches and stolen smiles, and stores it away. 

He’s good at compartmentalising and prides himself at his ability to move on and not dwell on things that aren’t ever going to happen. It sucks and it hurts. 

The last thirty minutes, he focus on battening down his emotions and the works up the courage to call again. Taking a deep breath he dials. 

It’s Laura this time. 

“Hi,” she answers. “The spaghetti is almost done, are you close?” She has an ease about her, that feeling that you’ve known her forever. 

“Yeah.” He pauses. “How’s Nat?” He questions.

“Asleep. She hasn’t been sleeping much. If at all. I think it messes with her a lot. She wakes up panicking. I managed to give her some pain killers.”

Clint laughs. Out loud.

“You got her to take pain killers?” He asks incredulously. This woman must be magic. 

She laughs with him. “Yeah. But I think it was more luck and timing than anything else. Hey Clint?” Laura pauses.

“Mmm?” Clint says noncommittally. 

“She needs you. She won’t admit it, and she’s putting on a tough act. But she needs you.” 

This does not help with the compartmentalization. He thought he had it under control, he fights and puts his emotions back. 

“Sounds like she needs you a bit more.” He says. It comes out a bit more snarky than he means to. 

He’s sorry as soon as it comes out of his mouth.  
Laura laughs it off again.

“No, no. I’m just a helper. You’ll see. When she’s in pain and needs help, yours is the name she calls, not mine. She says your name with reverence and hope. You must have noticed.” It’s too much for Clint’s poor heart. This last 7 hours has been a rollercoaster ride where he’s learnt more about Natasha and moved simultaneously further away from her and closer to her than ever at the same time.

“It’s not me,” he says slightly despondently. 

“It’s always been you.” Laura responds. “Anyway. I thought you should know. She’ll never say it.”

Clint pulls close to the house. “I’m about ten minutes away, do you need me to pick up anything?” 

“No, I think we are ok. Just you. We’ll see you soon.  
.

3/

Clint arrives to house and does a quick scout of the area, making sure there’s no danger. No one around. He parks down the street and enters through the back as he always does when he visits. He lets his presence known by calling out.

Laura sticks her head out from the kitchen and Clint sucks in a breath. 

She’s not what he imagined in his head. In fact he doesn’t know what he imagined. She’s beautiful. He can’t help but suck in a breath. 

“Hi!” She says and motions for him to come into the kitchen.

“Hey,” he says following her. “She still asleep?” 

Laura nods. “It’s great to meet you face to face, do you want some spaghetti?”

Clint nods and smiles. “She won’t mind me eating without her?” 

Laura shakes her head. “I don’t think she’s eaten anything for a while. I don’t know. I’ve been here since yesterday morning; I’ve been making her drink milkshakes, something at least to line her stomach, especially with the pain killers.” 

He can’t take his eyes off her. The way she moves is like she’s floating, it’s a grace like Natasha’s in a different way, less ethereal. He can’t explain it in his own mind but he’s smitten and understands inherently Natasha’s trust in her. 

Laura passes across the food and pulls some into a bowl for her. “It’s your recipe, I hope I’ve done it justice.” She grins. 

Clint starts to respond when he’s cut off with a shout and a moan. He runs to Natasha’s room without hesitation.

He stops short and Laura almost smacks into his back. When Natasha had said she got beat up, she’d played it down. “Fuuuckkkkk.” He breaths.

Laura frowns and pushes past him. “Natasha?” She says loudly. “Natasha? It’s Laura. Clint’s here.”

It’s all so practiced, Clint doesn’t want to imagine how many times she’s had to say those statements since yesterday. Reassure Natasha that she’s ok. He’s done it too, as Natasha’s done with him. 

Nightmares in safe spaces are a hazard of their job, no one sees the darkness they do and not have repercussions, even the most hardened of spies. He takes in the scene and cringes. 

Natasha’s face is bruised, like she’s been hit multiple times in the face, there’s butterfly bandages covering over cuts on her cheek and forehead. If he didn’t know if was Natasha under the covers he’d have to really look to know it was her. 

“What happened?” He asks the room.

Laura just looks at him like he’s an idiot and he moves toward Natasha grabbing her hand and pushing away sweat soaked hair. 

“Clint?” Natasha questions, “you’re here?” The question hangs in air like she never expected him to come. 

It surprises him, her disorientation. On the phone she was coherent, here she’s not. He wonders if Laura can shed some light on to what the hell is happening.

“Hey, yeah I’m here. You’re ok. What happened?” 

Laura moves to the door, maybe feeling like she’s intruding. Natasha rolls to face him, wincing and closing her eyes. 

“You’re here,” she repeats. “I missed you.” 

God she’s going to be death of him and his poor heart. He pulls her hair back, he thinks Laura must have styled it into a ponytail to keep it off her face, stray hairs have pulled out and attached to her face. 

He swallows his emotions and talks to her, just like he’s done before when they’ve been in this situation, tells her of the scenery driving here, the music he played and the cars he saw. It lulls her back to sleep. 

He gently kisses her forehead and leaves her, walking out to the kitchen where he finds Laura doing the dishes. 

“She’s asleep again,” he announces.

“Good.” Laura turns to face him, drying her hands on the dish towel. 

“Has she been this bad since yesterday?” He asks, worried.

Laura nods, and takes a deep breath. “Yeah. I don’t know if she got dropped here by the ex-fil team or what happened; but she messaged me asking if I could come. I live nearby, but even if I didn’t I still would’ve come. She was pretty out of it. Still is I think.” she pauses. 

“So much so she let me sedate her and from there I was able to fix up whoever did her shit stitches and gave her pain killers. What worries me, is that there was an incident with gas in extraction, and I think we both know what that does to her.” 

Clint nods. It’s how the red room drugged the kids, made them pliable and more susceptible to brain washing. He rubs his face. And then wonders how Laura also knows this too. 

“The periods of lucidity are more now than yesterday, I think she’s really tired? Maybe more than a bit.” Laura continues. “I think she’ll be ok.. It looks worse than what I think is the actual damage. It’s been a bit scary, seeing her like this.” She pauses, then says looking at him intently. “I’m glad you’re here, Clint.” 

God he’s glad she’s been here. 

Helping, taking care of Nat. He would’ve never known. It makes sense though, Natasha knew he was on a mission. She’d never reach out to him; mission comes first and all that crap. He’s glad she’s got someone else she trusts and call to help. 

They continue to chat and get to know each other until Natasha wanders into the kitchen. 

“Hey.” She says looking at both of them. 

“Hey.” They reply in unison.

Natasha smiles at both of them, sheepishly.

“How are you?” Laura asks first, as Clint pulls out a chair for her to sit on.

“Hungry.” Comes the reply.

Laura turns and prepares a light meal. Natasha reaches over and squeezes Clint’s hand. 

She mouths ‘thank you’ and smiles. Clint squeezes back.

No matter what he’ll always have her back. He’s thankful that she’s let him in and see this part of her life. He ponders on Laura’s words and this relationship he has entered into. Whatever happens from here he’s here for it.


End file.
